


Bourbon and Daisies

by 616winterhawk



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 12 Days of Winterhawk, Bartender Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019, Clint Barton Bingo 2019, Drunk Clint Barton, M/M, WinterHawk Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/616winterhawk/pseuds/616winterhawk
Summary: Clint Barton, someone who isn't really into the bar scene, decides to go to a new bar with Natasha Romanoff.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Bourbon and Daisies

"Nat, do I really have to go?" complained Clint, while slipping on his favorite pair of boots.

"Yes," replied Natasha from the living room of the apartment they shared. "it'll be fun Clint. And you never know, you might meet someone."

The two were headed to a new bar that had just opened about five miles away. Everyone was talking about it.

Clint sighed and walked out of his room and down the hall to where Natasha was standing. His blonde hair was a ruffled mess, mainly because it never did what he wanted it to do. He quickly grabbed a pair of car keys that were laying on a small table by the door and tossed them to Natasha.

"Okay, let's go and get this over with." he said, unenthusiastically. Clint just wasn't a bar type of guy.

Natasha just rolled her eyes and walked out of the front door, she paused by the doorframe waiting for Clint to follow. Once they were both outside, Natasha locked the door behind them. Natasha was never one to turn down a drink but Clint, he would definitely turn down every drink someone tried to give him.

—

The bar was nothing special, it had a farmstead feel to it and there was classic rock music playing in the background. Pool tables where set up in the back left corner and a piano was in the back right. The bar was the most unusual, it looked like one you would see in a grubby club on the outskirts of town but yet, between each seat sitting neatly on the bar, was a small vase with two daisies in them. The lights were dimmed and the concrete floor was freshly waxed, so Clint’s boots had little to no traction whatsoever.

Natasha gave his shoulder a slight tap. “I’m gonna go shoot a few rounds and I’ll meet you back at the bar.” she stated before heading off to the back left corner.

Clint just sighed, he didn't like being left alone in a new place where he didn't know anyone. So he decided to go sit at the bar. Once he sat down his leg started to shake up and down, a nervous habit he picked up a few years ago. He glanced up at the different drink that where sitting on the shelves, he didn't even know what he wanted. He had started to get up and make his way back to Natasha, when the bartender walked out from the back room. Clint blinked a few times to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. This man was beautiful. His long hair was pulled back into a bun, and he was wearing this worn out black tee shirt that complimented his arms very well.

“What would you like?” asked the bartender looking at Clint, he had a whiskey glass in his hand that he had picked up at the other end of the bar when he first walked out.

‘You.’ Clint thought to himself, but he quickly let that thought go. “Uhm, to be honest I really don’t know. Surprise me I guess.” he said before resting his arms against the bar.

The bartender smiled slightly before reaching up to grab a bottle of honey whiskey. That’s when Clint noticed his hand, the left one, was made out of metal. Him also having a disability, didn’t mention it in fear of making the guy upset.

“It burns a little, but the honey makes it kinda better.” he said before setting a glass down in front of Clint and pouring the whiskey in.

Clint nodded slightly, he tried to keep his eyes off of the bartender, he didn't want to seem creepy for just staring at the guy. He also didn't want him to notice the blood rushing to his face when he smiled at him. Clint took the glass in one hand and brought it up to his mouth to take a sip. The bartender was right, it did burn but more than a little and the honey was basically nonexistent. He tried to hide the face he made, but the bartender noticed and let out a small chuckle.

“I’m guessing by your face that whiskey isn’t your drink.” said the bartender before leaning carefully against the shelves of liquor behind him. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Clint, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve never had it before.” replied Clint, coughing between words.

The bartender kept a small smile on his face as he walked back over to the bar and took the bottle of whiskey and returned it back to its place on the shelf.

“I’m Bucky Barnes, by the way.” he said before turning back around to face Clint.

“Clint Barton.” he said before glancing around, he was the only one at the bar, which meant that he was the only one to embarrass himself in front of the extremely hot bartender, that was now standing less than two feet away from him.

Clint took in a deep breath before picking up the whiskey glass again, he couldn't tell if it was the bar or if it was his mind, but he was pretty sure that Bucky smelled like bourbon.

“You know you don't have to finish that if you don't want to,” said Bucky, as he watched Clint move the glass to his mouth. “I can always get you something else.”

“But then the rest of this will go to waste.” replied Clint quietly. He didn't like whiskey, but he still didn't want it to be wasted. “I’ll finish it, it’s fine.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and took the glass from Clint. “Barton, by the look on your face you won't finish it. Just take a minute and look, you might find something in a pretty bottle that you might want to try.” he said before tilting his head back and drinking the rest of the whiskey.

Clint was a little surprised that Bucky just drank the rest of the whiskey like it was water, he was also surprised that he had alcohol while he was working. But, he took Bucky’s advice and scanned the shelves for something that he actually might want to try. His eyes focused on a pinkish colored bottle.

“That one.” he said motioning to the bottle.

Bucky followed his gaze and saw the bottle of Svedka sitting on one of the upper shelves. “Good choice, peach vodka is always a good choice.”

Clint smiled as Bucky got the bottle down and set it on the bar, he reached under the counter and set a shot glass down beside it.

“I don't know if you’ve had vodka before but, I would suggest taking it as a shot first before anything else. That way you can get used to the taste.” said Bucky, glancing over as someone else sat down at the bar.

Clint shook his head slightly and poured the drink into the shot glass as Bucky went to get the other guy a drink.

—

Clint stopped counting after the eighth shot. He wasn’t paying any attention to the time, or how much alcohol he had consumed. His vision was a little blurry and he would laugh at the smallest things. Bucky ended up taking the bottle and putting it back on the shelf, he didn't want Clint to hurt himself or do anything too stupid. Pretty soon, it was just Bucky, Clint, and Natasha in the bar. Natasha ended up beating most of the people there at pool, some had even placed bets.

“Alright,” said Natasha once she realized how intoxicated her roommate was. “Clint it’s time to go.”

Clint looked Natasha and pouted. “But Nat, I don't wanna leave.” he said, his words somewhat slurred.

“Well, we need to. You're wasted.” replied Natasha before looping her right arm over Clint’s shoulders and helping him walk towards the entrance.

Before they stepped out of the bar, Clint turned around and faced Bucky, who was now cleaning the bar.

“Bye Bucky!” exclaimed Clint with a goofy smile on his face, his body was starting to overheat due to the alcohol.

Bucky smiled back at Clint and waved. “See ya.”

—

The next morning was hell for Clint. He was hungover. His head was pounding and every noise made it worse. The lights hurt his eyes and when he would get up, he almost threw up. A smile spread across his face as he remembered the handsome bartender from last night. He remembered the small vases of daisies that sat on the bar, he remembered how Bucky smelled of bourbon even though he only had half a glass of whiskey.

“How do you feel?” asked Natasha from the doorway of Clint’s room.

“I’m never having vodka again.” mumbled Clint before rolling over onto his stomach to face her.

Natasha just laughed. “So. How was the bartender?”

Clint’s face heated up. He buried his face in his pillow, trying to hide his smile. He could feel Natasha’s gaze burning into the back of his head.

“Clint, answer me.” said Natasha shaking his shoulder. She ended up rolling Clint over, his face red.

“He was nice.” Clint replied, his voice muffled by the pillow. He kept replaying last night in his mind, he can’t get Bucky’s smile out of his head.

“Did you have fun at least?” she asked, sitting at the foot of his bed.

He nodded and slowly sat up. “I did. I didn't expect to drink that much, but I had fun.”

Natasha just smiled and walked back out of the room. Clint laid back down and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't get Bucky out of his head. He didn't want to get Bucky out of his head. So, he made the decision to go back to the bar, even though he had a major headache.

—

As Clint stood outside of the bar, making sure to stay away from the windows, he let out a breath trying to calm his nerves. He didn't know why he was nervous, hus palms where clammy and his whole body was hot. He kicked his right foot on the side of the building to try to knock his mind back to reality.

“You okay?” said a voice from behind him.

Clint froze, he knew that voice. It was Bucky’s. He turned around and saw the male looking at him, curiosity flooded his eyes.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” replied Clint with a nervous grin on his face.

Bucky was wearing a black bomber jacket, jeans, and boots. He looked comfortable. His hair was down and a little messy, like it was tousled by the wind.

He smiled at Clint and motioned towards the door to the bar. “Are you going in?”

Clint glanced back at the door. “Yeah I am.” he replied as Bucky walked around him and opened the door.

He followed Bucky in and sat down at the bar. This time there were roses in the vases. Clint looked at them and shrugged, he liked the daisies better.

Bucky sat down beside him and asked the working bartender for a small glass of water. “Do you want anything?” he asked, glancing over at Clint.

“Anything but vodka.” muttered Clint as he put his hands on the bar in front of him.

“It wasn't that bad was it?” Bucky laughed.

Clint just groaned and set his head on the bar, cooling his face down. “It was bad. Really really bad.” he replied.

He jumped as a bell rang and pulled his head off of the bar to look up. Bucky was gone. He looked around trying to find him. A few seconds later, Bucky appeared in front of him on the other side of the bar. His hair was pulled back and he had taken his jacket off. Clint couldn't help but watch as Bucky’s muscles worked as he was reaching for bottles on the shelves and putting them back.

Clint ended up having to force himself to stop staring at Bucky. The bar was packed and people had begun to bump into each other, some drunk others sober. Clint was drumming his fingers on the bar in tune to the music when someone bumped into him and spilled alcohol down the side of his shirt and arm. He jumped slightly, taken off guard.

“Oh shit, sorry man.” said the drunken man before stumbling off into the crowd.

“It’s fine.” replied Clint shaking his arm to get some of the alcohol off of his arm.

“Here.” said Bucky before handing him a wet washcloth. “It happens a lot, especially when there’s a lot of people.”

“Thank you.” said Cling, taking the washcloth and wiping it across his arm. His arm was clean, but his shirt smelled like beer.

When Clint looked up from cleaning his arm, Bucky was staring at him. Clint’s cheeks flushed bright rosy color and he set the washcloth on the bar.

“So tell me about how bad last night was.” said Bucky, taking the cloth and putting it in a bin underneath the bar.

Clint winced a little. “Are you sure you wanna hear about it? It was kinda gross.” he replied.

Bucky leaned forward and put his forearms on the top of the bar, his face a few inches away from Clint’s.

“Clint, I don't care how gross it may be, I wanna know how your night went. Plus I’m a bartender, I’ve probably heard worse.” he said, a small smirk playing on his face.

Clint wanted to pass out and kiss Bucky at the same time. He was so close. So, he gave in. He told Bucky about how his night went, he actually ended up telling Bucky a lot of things. He told him about an anxiety attack he had a few days ago, he told him about how he was trying to make his bed but tripped over a pillow and hit his head on the door. He was a mess, but Bucky listened anyway.

—

Clint kept yearning to go see Bucky, so he did. He stayed until it was closing time and he helped Bucky clean without being asked. He thought of it was payment since Bucky would always listen to his rants. He also loved the smell. It soon made him feel like he was home, not with his family or with Natasha, but a new home. A home where he could vent and no one would judge. A home that had Bucky.

The mix of bourbon and daisies was euphoric.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading! This is my first piece of work on ao3 so sorry if it sucks, I haven't wrote in a while...


End file.
